


Rope Me In

by MashiarasDream



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, D/s, Established Relationship, Gentle dom!Cas, M/M, Profound Bondage, Punishment, Safe Sane and Consensual, Schmoop, Sub!Dean, seriously why does my D/s always turn into schmoop instead of smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 13:10:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7893895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MashiarasDream/pseuds/MashiarasDream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean hates it when Cas ties him up because ropes always feel like he's a failure. Like he can't be trusted with even a simple task like holding his position. And Dean doesn't need help. He doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rope Me In

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alyeen1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alyeen1/gifts).



> There was supposed to be more smut and less schmoop in this. Destiel did not comply. They are such saps.  
> You can read this as a time-stamp for "Somebody to Love" if you want to. But it's not a necessity.

The restraints aren’t uncomfortable. They never are. Dean’s tested their give once and now he’s doing his best to forget they’re there. That part is harder. Cas has tied his wrists to his elbows behind his back, so he needs to keep his muscles locked or it’ll be the ropes that hold his arms in place. And he doesn’t need that. Doesn’t. No matter what Cas thinks.

There’s no way to straighten up more than he already has - he’s kneeling in his best posture - but he still tries. It’s not been specified, so he wouldn’t need to. All Cas told him was to kneel here and wait. To not look around to find him and to concentrate on himself instead of on Cas.

Dean grimaces at that. He likes concentrating on Cas. Likes anticipating what he wants of him next. Likes looking at him. Well, possibly it’s a bit deeper than  _like_ . Cas knows all of that of course. Knows it and uses it against him. 

Still, he does his best to follow the instruction. Keeps his eyes focused on the floor in front of him. Doesn’t strain his ears to hear where Cas is at, though Cas wouldn’t have a way of telling unless he gives himself away by moving towards him.

If only Cas hadn’t restrained him. Dean hates that part. Hates that Cas doesn’t trust him with something as simple as keeping his position. Wouldn’t that have been enough? Kneeling here, not allowed to be near Cas? Waiting for whatever else Cas comes up with for his actual punishment after the wait is over?

Maybe it’s preparation for that. Maybe whatever Cas is planning will be impossible to keep still through. Dean resists the urge to fidget as his body tries to figure out how to deal with this insight. Cas’ punishments never start out pleasant. But they’re usually worth it. And not even just for being forgiven. So yeah, there’s definitely some conflicting emotion there. Though if he’s honest, Dean mostly wants Cas to come over and start already.

Of course that’s the whole point of making him wait. To make him fidget while he’s going over the possibilities. To let him feel the weight of Cas’ displeasure.

He screws his eyes shut and straightens his back. The position is starting to hurt and it’s his own fault. He should allow his muscles to relax into the ropes. It’s okay to do that. That’s what the ropes are for, to hold him in place when he can’t do it himself. The position wouldn’t be strenuous at all if it wasn’t for his own insistence that the ropes shouldn’t have to help. There’s a pillow beneath his knees and if he could relax and let himself fall into this, there wouldn’t be a problem.

He grits his teeth because yeah, his shoulders are hurting and for now he can fight through the pain but he won’t be able to keep this up for much longer. And then it’s either accept the fact that he needed the restraints after all or tap out. And he’s not safe-wording out of a punishment. Not if there’s any way to avoid it.

“You’re crying.”

Dean jumps about a foot in the air when suddenly there’s a warm hand on his face, the thumb brushing away the tears he hadn’t noticed were falling.

He nods jerkily once he’s found his composure. Cas hasn’t specified that he can’t talk, but that wasn’t really a question, so the answer is more of an acknowledgment that he’s not drifting anymore.

Cas keeps his hand on Dean’s face, softly stroking the skin and Dean can’t help but lean into the touch. It makes his posture crumble, and he flinches as he remembers, oh yes, ropes. Cas put him in ropes.

“Hey,” Cas tilts his chin upwards. “Check in. Are you okay?”

Dean nods.

“Verbal answer, please, Dean. You can answer with your color or a longer statement.”

“Green,” Dean mutters. “But I don’t like the restraints.” It sounds more petulant than planned. 

“Yeah, I didn’t think you would,” Cas answers and keeps stroking Dean’s face even though now that he’s back in his head he’s stopped crying and there are no more tears to be wiped away. “You never do.”

Dean bites his lips to keep from answering that. This is a punishment, he reminds himself. Punishments defeat their purpose if they're comfortable.

“Dean?” Cas taps against his cheek and seeing that he's now sitting cross-legged in front of Dean, maybe Dean isn't as far back to the surface as he thought. “Think you can answer a question?”

Shrugging makes the ropes chafe so it isn't the best idea to use that as an answer but Dean only figures that out when it's too late.

Cas notices and smiles. “Words, Dean.”

“Depends on the question,” Dean grumbles. And yeah, maybe it doesn't put him in the best mood that Cas is laughing at his plight. 

“Fair enough,” Cas nods. “I want you to try, though. Can you do that for me?”

The answer to that one is obvious, sour mood or not. Add  _for me_ to any request, and Dean's going to walk over burning coals for Cas. Not that Cas would ever make him do that. Cause for some odd reason Cas believes in being gentle with Dean. Dean's told him time and time again that he can take harsher treatment and Cas has refused time and time again. 

Dean nods and even remembers that he's supposed to use his words. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Can you tell me why the ropes?” 

Cas runs a careful hand along Dean's arm and then through the spaces between the ropes. He's leaning close enough that he can't miss the shiver going through Dean at the contact.

“Cause you know I don't like them.“

“Hmm, partially. But that's a bit superficial, don't you think? There are plenty of other things you don't like and I chose this in particular.” 

When Dean doesn't answer, Cas moves his hands from Dean's arms to his shoulders. He starts digging his fingers into the taut flesh of Dean's shoulder muscles, massaging them evenly, and it should feel good, shouldn't trigger his flight instinct, but oh boy it does. Because Cas' fingers insist on making Dean's muscles relax and relaxing means ropes and ropes mean failure and Dean just can't.

“Yellow,” he whispers, tears starting to flood back into his eyes. 

Instantly, Cas' hands are gone. It's a relief and despair at the same time. A single sob escapes before Dean can manage to capture it. He looks away from Cas and tries to calm his erratic breathing.

“Do you need out of this?” Cas asks, worry clear in every syllable. 

Dean shakes his head, not trusting his voice quite yet.

“Can I touch you?” 

Dean nods. “Yes. Just please don't...” His voice breaks, and yeah, he had been right not to trust it yet.

“Okay,” Cas answers softly. “I understand.” 

He puts his hand on Dean's cheek again, stroking the skin gently. The warmth of Cas' fingers is grounding, the intimate touch a reassurance that Dean didn't do anything wrong.

Of course it still feels like he did. He knows when to tap out or when to give a warning so that he doesn't spiral into a panic attack, but it doesn't mean he likes doing it.

“Dean, can you explain to me why you're getting punished?”

So it had been a bit much to hope that Cas would take the yellow as a sign to move on from this part of their night and let Dean get out of talking. “Cause I promised not to endanger myself,” he says grudgingly.

“And?”

“And I went to break up a fight without backup.”

“Yeah,” Cas nods. “You did. Again.”

He doesn't sound angry, but there's the resignation of a fight fought too often in his voice. It makes Dean's heart-rate go up two notches, urge to fix this suddenly bigger than his stubbornness about being able to handle things on his own. “I'm sorry, Cas. I really am. It won't-”

“Don't!” Cas stops him. “Don't make a promise you can't keep.”

That shuts Dean up. He stares at Cas.

“I know that you're sorry, Dean. I know that you mean that. But it won't happen again? That's a lie.” Cas' voice is soft, no anger in it. 

Still, Dean can't hold his eyes any longer. He hangs his head, ducking out of Cas' touch. “'m sorry.”

Cas stays silent, observing Dean quietly.

So Dean swallows and adds. “You can add the lie to the punishment.” He's in so much trouble already, it won't make much of a difference.

“You really don't get it, do you?” Cas sighs somewhat defeated, but his hands search out Dean's thigh, connecting them again. “Let's try this differently then. Tell me whether you hurt right now.”

“Yes,” Dean nods because the tension in his shoulders and upper back is getting pretty strenuous. He's going to feel all of these muscles tomorrow. 

“Tell me whether it's necessary that you're hurting.”

“What?” Dean's too caught out off guard to come up with anything more coherent. 

“Is it necessary that you're hurting? Is it part of your punishment?”

“Y-yes?” Dean asks insecurely because punishments should be hurting, right? It's part of the game. Even if possibly Dean could have made this particular part easier on himself. But Cas already knew he wasn't going to do that. He knows Dean doesn't relax into restraints. Knows he hates it with a passion when he can't fulfill Cas' instructions without help. When he's not good enough on his own.

“Do you trust me, Dean?” Cas asks and he sounds uncomfortably serious, like he's actually not sure of the answer. 

“Yes. Yes, of course, I trust you!” Dean puts emphasis on that because there is not a single doubt in his mind. 

“Then trust me.”

It takes a moment for Dean's drifting mind to understand what Cas means. Cas actually has to tap the ropes before the light-bulb goes on in Dean's head.

Cas obviously sees the change in Dean's expression because he gives him a weak smile. “You are not alone, Dean. People are looking out for you. I'm looking out for you. All you got to do is accept the help we offer.”

It sounds so easy when Cas puts it like that. Still, the tears are clinging to the corners of Dean's eyes again. It's not so unreasonable what Cas wants. Dean knows that it isn't. But he's spent a life-time making sure that he's enough on his own. Because people don't like it when you ask for help. His Dad didn't like it. He didn't provide any help either, just told him to man up. And Dean did. It's bad enough that he likes this. That he likes submitting to Cas. If he starts accepting help, he'll just be weak. Then Cas won't have anything to be proud of anymore. And Dean wants Cas to be proud of him.

“We all need someone to help us carry the load. Nobody can shoulder the world on their own. Just like nobody can stay in this position for long without the ropes supporting them. That's why I chose this, Dean. Because I thought this might get through to you. Here, where you've willingly chosen to give yourself over to me, I thought I might be enough to -,” Cas breaks off. He shakes his head. “Never mind. It's unimportant what I thought.” He cups Dean's face in his hands, gives him a smile and presses a kiss to his lips. “I asked you to kneel and wait for me and you did. You were good for me like you always are. So we'll get you out of these ropes now before your muscles completely lock up.” 

It's all Dean wants, getting out of these ropes, only somehow suddenly it's not. Cause Cas is ready to give him a free pass and Dean knows he's not going to make an issue out of this, but Cas is disappointed. Dean can hear it in his voice and see it in the way he collects himself to keep the persona up and hide his personal feelings. And that doesn't work for Dean.

“Cas, wait.” His voice sounds weaker than he wants it to, but Cas pauses in his movements. And gosh, this is not going to go down in history as one of his favorite days. But he grits his teeth because if this is this important for Cas he can do it. Provided that, “Stay with me?” Dean asks. 

Cas looks at him confused but he doesn't hesitate. “Always, Dean. I'm right here.”

Dean doesn't answer, the moment taking up all of his courage as it is. But he drops his head forward so that his forehead ends up on Cas' shoulder. The movement makes his back and shoulders curl and for a few heartbeats Dean thinks he's going to throw up as the ropes tighten around his arms. But he breathes through it and then Cas' arms come up around him to hold him.

There are shivers running through Dean and it might be his imagination but he thinks Cas' voice is a bit wobbly when he murmurs little endearments to soothe him. It was the right choice, then, doing this, even though the shivers seem to be an automatic reaction, his hate for the ropes passionate enough that his body does not want to relax into them even when he orders it to.

Cas runs his hands up and down Dean's arms, providing a counterpoint to the smoothness of the rope, a point of warmth to focus on and Dean latches on gratefully. Incrementally, his shoulders come down from where they had been cramped almost up over his ears and relax into a more natural position. Slowly, ever so slowly the shivers stop with it.

Cas kisses his shoulders, tiny pecks that tickle with Cas' stubble. Experimentally, Dean leans a little more of his weight on Cas. Instantly, Cas' arms support him. “I've got you, Dean. You can lean on me.”

It means more than this moment and Dean knows it. “I trust you, Cas. I do,” he mumbles into the crook of Cas' neck. “It's just – don't want to be ballast. Want you to be proud of me.”

“I am proud of you,” Cas insists. “And it makes me so happy when you trust me enough to let me in. To let me see all of you.” He lays a hand over Dean's heart. “When you let me be close not only to your body but also to your heart. Makes me think I'm doing right by you. And I want to do right by you very badly. Want you to be safe and happy.” 

It's almost a love declaration and it makes Dean shiver again, though it's a different reason this time. He presses a kiss into Cas' neck where he can reach his skin. “Want to be good for you, Cas. Want to be what you need.” His voice comes out too hoarse but he can always blame it on their scene. Cas doesn't need to know that the sentiment has nothing to do with what they're doing right now. That Dean's heart made space for a home for Cas on the night that they met and that that space has only been growing ever since.

“Dean, can I – Dean, I want to ask you something. But not like this.” Cas fumbles blindly with the knots in the ropes and it takes a few minutes and a few tries before the knots spring open. 

The sudden change in Cas' demeanor makes Dean nervous enough that he doesn't even breathe a sigh of relief when the ropes come off. He holds his arms in position, but Cas takes them and brings them forward, rubbing over them, making sure blood-flow is restored. He's diligent as always, paying attention to every small mark the ropes have left. There isn't much, the red spots will be gone within the hour.

“Cas? What is it?” Dean finally asks because his arms are fine and Cas clearly is not. “You're making me awfully nervous.”

“Dean, I – this is probably not a moment where I should be doing this. Do you need something? Water? Juice?”

“Cas!” Dean catches his wrist and keeps Cas from jumping up. “What I need is you to talk to me.“ Cause Cas pretty much just broke off their scene. And he never does that. 

“I-,” Cas lets himself fall back down heavily. He sits completely still for a few heartbeats but then he shakes himself off, posture suddenly straightening. “This is not how I planned to do this. And it's entirely unfair to ask this before you've had a chance to clear your head after the scene. So you don't have to answer anything right now. But Dean, I'm so grateful that you've come into my life and what you just did was so beautiful, and I just – thank you. Thank you for trusting me.” 

He fumbles for something in his pocket, takes Dean's hand, puts the object into it and closes both their hands over the metal. There are ridges and edges pressing into Dean's palm, and the metal is still warm from having been in Cas' pocket.

“This is for you. It doesn't have to mean – not if you don't want to – but if you'd – if you'd want to, I would be more than happy.” And for what's probably the first time ever, it's Cas' voice that gives out.

Dean's nerves have skyrocketed in sync with Cas' nerves but now he stares dumbfounded at the thing in his hand. A key. More specifically, the key to Cas' house.

“You don't have to – I want you to keep it however you decide. But we work together so well, Dean, and I like being around you so much and – I'd be honored if you considered moving in with me.” Cas breathes a big sigh, like he's relieved that he's finally managed to get the sentence out. 

“Cas, that's - kind of big.”

“And I won't be upset if you don't want to – if you think it's too early or if you need your own space or if you're worried that if we're always together I'll push you too hard or if -”

“Cas!” Dean brings his hand down over Cas' again, grounding him. “Hey, I haven't said No. I'm a bit shocked is all.”

“Dean, you gotta know by now that I love you. Of course I want to be with you as much as I can.”

“You love me?” Dean's mouth is suddenly dry. Even though Cas has been using the word on and off, he's never said it this directly. 

“Yes, Dean. I love you,” Cas nods, voice soft like it gets whenever Cas thinks something they do is going to spook Dean. 

And it does spook him, though not as much as it would have half a year ago. Because Cas is right, they  _are_ good together. They have their spats but they work through them and Cas has wormed his way into Dean's heart from the first moment anyway, somehow convincing Dean a little more with every day that he actually wants him around and isn't one day going to wake up and decide that Dean is no good after all.

“I'm still going to fuck up, Cas,” Dean says, and is aware that it's as good as a yes to Cas' question. 

“I gather so will I,” Cas says, and judging by his smile he's noticed that as well. “We'll work through it like we always do.”

“Yes,” Dean nods, “I guess we will.” 

Weirdly, he even believes that. Believes that Cas won't give up on him no matter what. It's a new concept and it's a bit much right this second, so he sits back a little, his hand brushing the rope where it lies discarded next to him. His first impulse is to flinch away, but then he consciously lets his fingers linger. The material is soft, no splices, no broken cords. Cas is meticulous in making sure that there's nothing that could even accidentally hurt Dean. And really that should be all Dean needs to know to make up his mind about this.

“Cas? Want to include this more often?” He grabs the rope and holds it up. “Not just as a punishment, like, in regular play.” And there, it didn't even hurt to propose that. Not while he's still holding the key to Cas' house in his palm. Not while he's proposing it to _Cas_. Cause that makes all the difference.

“Dean, you hate ropes,” Cas says confused. 

“Yeah, and they won't miraculously become my favorite over night but... I mean it when I say I trust you. So yeah, I'd be willing to, you know, try and accept help when I need it.”

Cas' eyes turn big and round, like Dean's given him a surprise present that he never expected. “Dean, are you sure?” he asks. “You know we don't have to do this.”

“Yes, Cas, I know.” He rolls his eyes fondly, his heart expanding with everything he feels for Cas until he's not sure he can take it anymore without giving it voice. “I love you, too, you blockhead.”

 

 


End file.
